Saturday, September 29, 2012

Joseph Merlino steps out onto the iron-railed balcony of his $400,000
townhouse. Bare-chested, ripped and clad in nothing but gray skivvies,
he looks more like a former Calvin Klein underwear model than one of the
most ruthless mobsters of his time.
A year out of prison, Joseph Salvatore "Skinny Joey" Merlino isn't so
skinny anymore. But he looks almost as boyish at 50 as at 39, when he
was sentenced to 14 years in prison for racketeering. Back then, he was a
5-foot-3, 100-pound dapper young don who masterminded the bloody
takeover of the Philadelphia mob. Today, he is a two-hour plane ride
from the Southwest Philadelphia rowhouse where he grew up to become an
underworld icon, both feared and eerily revered in the City of Brotherly
Love.
"How'd ya find me?" he asks, his Philadelphia accent unmistakable.
Surely Merlino, who has survived at least a dozen attempts on his
life and has been accused and acquitted of ordering the grisly murders
of plenty of wise guys, knows the answer to his question: If you really
want to, you can find just about anyone.
He grins and says he doesn't want to talk. This is something of a
surprise, because Merlino is a mob star who, at least at one time, loved
seeing himself in the spotlight so much that he used to ask friends to
tape the TV news if there was a chance he would appear.
Once dubbed the "John Gotti of Passyunk Avenue," Merlino is now the
ex-Mafioso, supposedly, of Boca's Broken Sound Boulevard, where he lives
in a cookie-cutter development still partly under construction off
Interstate 95 and Yamato Road.
"I mean no disrespect," he says, in a cliché as fitting as the Frank
Sinatra tunes that neighbors say he blares in the middle of the night.
"Don't believe everything you read," he counters when asked about a
possible movie deal about his gangster life, or to address evidence
suggesting that he is back at the helm of the Philly-South Jersey La
Cosa Nostra from his suburban South Florida outpost.
Mobsters have flocked to Florida since the first trees were planted
on Palm Island, where Al Capone moved into a mansion in 1928. The state
always has been open territory for organized crime, a wise-guy retreat
where figures like Meyer Lansky and underlings from just about every
crime family have angled for turf - from gambling to extortion to
prostitution to money-laundering to running drugs.
Merlino says that he is in the carpet-installing business. The owner
of his posh townhouse, Bruce DeLuca, is CEO of U.S. Installation Group, a
primary flooring and carpeting subcontractor for Home Depot. Through a
spokesperson, DeLuca said that he didn't lease the place to Merlino,
doesn't know him and would never have rented the house had he known who
would be living there.
The 2,900-square-foot, two-story, Mediterranean-style townhouse sits
at the end of a cul-de-sac of former model homes in a community occupied
by upper-middle-class, educated people who mostly work day jobs. It has
an ornamental cross atop its tower-like roof.
But if Merlino has joined the work force, he isn't installing carpets
9-to-5, according to neighbors. They say he has thrown loud parties,
with beefy men and scantily clad women coming and going at all hours.
Last Christmas season, somebody threw his fully decorated tree - tinsel,
balls and all, from his balcony onto the street.
"They're scary," said one neighbor who asked not to be identified.
"We've had the police come several times. It's been very stressful
living near them. There is always screaming and fighting."
Boca Raton police said that they have no record of any calls to the
address, but if police were summoned because of noise, they wouldn't
necessarily write up a report, said spokeswoman Sandra Boonenberg.
The neighbors say that what they find most disturbing are the banging
noises in the middle of the night, as if furniture or equipment is
being moved about.
"I'm not easily frightened," another neighbor said, when informed
that a convicted mobster lived a few doors away. "I don't know who he
is, but he does have a lot of visitors."

'Hometown Boy'

Retired Philadelphia Police Sgt. Walt Coughlin, who followed Merlino
for much of his 47-year career, said that the former mob boss seemed to
like everybody - except those who were out to kill him. His neighbors
welcomed him, as he often gave them Christmas trees and offered to help
them if they couldn't pay their heating bill.
"There were quite a few murders we thought he did, but there were no
witnesses,'' said Coughlin. "Nobody would cooperate with police. They
were afraid, and he was a hometown boy."
It's not clear whether Merlino's wife, Deborah Wells Merlino, and his
two children are living with him in Boca. Neighbors say they haven't
seen any children at the house.
Merlino appears to work out of his home. He named his Wi-Fi
connection "Pine Barrens," a reference to the heavily forested area in
New Jersey where organized criminals often disposed of bodies. It was
the scene of one of the most famous - and frightening - episodes of "The
Sopranos."
It would not surprise those who know Merlino if he is still living the "life."
"I can tell you that I would not want to live next door to Joey
Merlino," said Stephen LaPenta, a retired Philadelphia police lieutenant
who worked undercover as a mob informant, and infiltrated Merlino's
inner circle. LaPenta, now retired and living in Florida, said that he
still keeps tabs on the flamboyant ringleader.
"The Joey I know was a hard-drinking, womanizing, gambling drug user who would strangle you," he said.
Merlino had ruthless power, as well as panache.
"If Joey sneezed, 20 people would hand him a handkerchief," LaPenta said.

Why Boca?

So, why Boca Raton, a place without real cheesesteaks, Mummers and the Eagles?
Organized-crime experts say that Merlino, one of the many Teflon dons
who have beaten multiple murder raps, has a better shot of staying
under the radar in Boca. He was high-profile in Philly, with an
entourage of pretty women and bodyguards. He was always followed by
police and undercover agents.
Richard Mangan, a professor at Florida Atlantic University's School
of Criminology, said that Merlino is no stranger to South Florida. At
one time, he was part of Nicodemo "Little Nicky" Scarfo's regime in
Philadelphia. Scarfo owned a home in Fort Lauderdale, and Merlino is
among those whose photo was taken on Scarfo's boat, the "Casa Blanca,"
also known as "The Usual Suspects.''
Mangan said it's likely that Merlino has been in charge of the family all along, even from prison.
"The speculation is that yeah, why wouldn't he be running things, especially in this digital age," Mangan said.
According to various media reports, Merlino has talked about getting
into the restaurant business. In August, Don Michael Petullo, a former
Las Vegas businessman who worked in the casino industry, registered a
company, DNS Inc., at Merlino's Boca Raton address. Petullo, who could
not be reached for comment, doesn't appear to be in the carpet business.
In February, a confidential FBI memo was leaked by the anti-secrecy
group WikiLeaks that said that Merlino "appears to be restoring and
developing significant relationships for a potential South Florida
crew," and that he was getting involved in gambling/bookmaking
activities.
Then, in May, a detention memo filed by prosecutors referred to a
secretly recorded conversation among New Jersey mobsters discussing
Merlino's status in the organization as the man in charge who would
decide, after his release from prison, which candidates would be
initiated into the mob. Joseph "Uncle Joe" Ligambi, until then
considered the top boss, is recorded as saying that Merlino would "make"
the guys he wants. Ligambi is now in prison.

Inviting trouble

A former boss of one of Florida's crime families, now retired, said that Merlino is inviting trouble by moving to Boca.
"I don't know who he thinks he is, but it's stupid, very stupid,"
said the ex-mobster, who spoke on the condition of anonymity. "Why Boca?
He could go anywhere, Phoenix, even Central Florida." Boca, he said,
will only create more police scrutiny of his dealings. "Boca is just too
hot for someone like him."
The old-timer said that the brash and brazen Merlino will not be welcomed by the local La Cosa Nostra.
"I guarantee you that there are people out there who won't want him," he said.
New York's five organized-crime syndicates - the Gambino, Genovese,
Bonanno, Colombo and Lucchese families - have always considered Florida
to be "open," with no family claiming exclusive rights to operate.
But, many of the older bosses have either gone to jail or are dead.
In the old days, the guys didn't want to attract attention, but young
turks like Merlino enjoy the limelight, said the old boss.
During the time he was in prison, Merlino reportedly spent a lot of
time in the gym, bulking up. Meanwhile, the mob was led by Ligambi,
although speculation among law enforcement is that Ligambi was actually a
figurehead for Merlino.
Merlino, released in 2011, served time in a Boca Raton halfway house before being freed last year.
If he is running the Philadelphia mob, he is likely doing so through
associates still living in Philly and South Jersey, according to the
confidential FBI memo. Merlino is prohibited from associating with known
felons and is still on federally supervised release.
"The word we got is Joey has a benefactor, he has somebody pumping
money into him. How else could he get out of prison and move into a
$400,000 house and drive a Mercedes?'' LaPenta said. "It's trouble for
South Florida in the sense that because Joey is there, others will
follow."